


Homemade Dynamite

by SpineAndSpite



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Sex, Choking, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 04:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11372340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpineAndSpite/pseuds/SpineAndSpite
Summary: Sometimes he calls him names, tells him exactly what he looks like, facedown and trembling. It does things to Akira’s inside--hearing such a cool, pleasant voice say such filthy things.





	Homemade Dynamite

**Author's Note:**

> this is just unapologetic pornography.

Comparatively, this has been a big year for Akira.

New school, new friends, part-times jobs. A gung-ho group of flashy vigilantes to lead through the mind palaces of abusive criminals. And, recently, a great deal of time spent being held down by the back of the neck and fucked until his bed rattles against the wall. Until sweat glides in prickling fingers down the small of his back.

“You’re so agreeable today,” Akechi murmurs against his ear. He has a beautiful voice, and when there’s no reason to keep it down, he doesn’t bother. He moans his pleasure out as his hips smack into Akira, pushing into the slick, hot clutch of him. Sometimes he calls him names, tells him exactly what he looks like, facedown and trembling. It does things to Akira’s insides--hearing such a cool, pleasant voice say such filthy things.

“You’re just...so willing to do whatever I want.” Akechi punctuates it with a sweat, deep thrust that makes Akira cry out into the sheets.

What he can’t tell Akechi is that it’s been a hard day of crawling through air ducts and crouching behind chairs. A lot of confusion, dizziness, and crippling bouts of despair. Generally just getting knocked down on his ass. Being the leader of the Phantom Thieves is sexy as hell, but it’s also a lot of monotonous, unglamorous work. And sometimes all he wants to do is let Akechi drive him out of his mind with those lips and teeth, the fingers snarled in his hair, the dick he’d initially sneered at as “ _pretty below average, to be honest_ ”, but now spends whole train rides fantasizing about, and routinely begs for.

Akechi hasn’t removed his gloves, and when he pushes his fingers into his mouth, Akira drowns in the sharp scent of soft leather. He bites down, but instead of yanking his fingers out Akechi presses deeper, until Akira gags.

He could throw Akechi off. He’s slender, willowy, with far less combat experience than Akira. And _balls-deep_ is not a position that renders your survival instincts particularly sharp. But as rough as Akechi gets, as maniacally creative as he can be with what he asks for, he has yet to do something Akira doesn’t like. Or, that doesn’t lead to something he likes. I.e. getting off. So he lets Akechi stroke his tongue, listens to him hum with pleasure when he starts to choke.

“You’re so tight when I do this.” He yanks his fingers out. “And when I do this.” He wraps his sloppy hand around Akira, squeezing the head of his cock, spreading slick. “You take it so well.” 

Akira grins into the sheets. If only the public could see their sweet-faced champion of justice now.


End file.
